The Hero of New Ferelden
by ludwigsgirl97
Summary: In a Ferelden 200 years after the one we know, Elva Coalin wants only to protect the group of fellow orphans she cares for, but when she becomes a warden to protect them from darkspawn, she's pulled into the politics of a currupt king and an angry population.How will she deal with her knewly expanded horizon, and can she really stop a blight? Obviously you have to read to find out
1. Chapter 1

This is another Dragon age fic, though not with any of the real characters in it. I hope everyone enjoys.

* * *

200 years after the last blight, the archdemon and his horde had faded into myth and wild storytelling in pubs and inns. Today was the day of an anual tournement in the name of King Alistair, a former warden and a King that was more like a hero to the general populace. The winners of this tournement were allowed to become wardens, should they so choose, and this year's was the fullest in it's history. Some of the farmers near the Bricillian forest were repoerting things that looked suspiciously like darkspawn, and as such the rumor was another blight, though most people didn't take it serioulsy. It was overwatched by the Dread King Darrion, a man who pushed down the elves, who were on the brink of breaking out of there alianeges and servant quarters when he came to power, as well as openly decalring war with the free marches, a militaristic man who only ever served himself, he was regarded with disdain by most everyone, but he was King, and with no one to contest him, mostly because they had all died in "mysterious" Accedents, there was nothing much to be done aside from starting another civil war.

One of these contestants was a young woman named Elva Coalin, a girl who grew up poor, was on her own after being orphaned by desease at ten, and now ran the oddest, smallest, and most feared gang in Denerim, mainly because she was a part of it. She and her small gang of misfits went around only preying on other criminals, and generaly making the city a safer place, but they did still keep the goods they recovered, and so they were considered criminals nontheless. It was quite often, however, that a gaurd would tell them of an ambush that he didn't want to be a part of, so that they would show up and fight their fight. And they would show up, after coin exchanged hands of course. She and her half-qunari freind and comrade Emmet were also the caretakers of nearly twenty young kids, and they didn't eat cheap. Any extra money they could get without hurting the innocent was a much needed plus, and the two would do nearly anything, though they didn't bring the six or so thirteen and fourteen year olds that made up the rest of their fighters on the really dangerous missions. Not that they were grown by any means. Elva was sixteen, and Emmet only one year older.

She went down the street, wearign the blue cape and teal sash that told everyone who she was, as well as a leather armour top, and faded orange trousers tucked into leather boots. Two razor sharp daggers were kept at her waist, and a longbow along with twentyfour arrows were at her back. Her shoulder length hair was tucked behind her ears, and her strangly green eyes practacaly shone from her soft, pretty face with a predators gaze. Like a cat stalking a mouse in the night, but more dangerous. Those who belonged to rival gangs grit there teeth and looked away, and little kids ran around her like she was the hero of Ferelden. Some of them wore blue capes underneath their well-worn clothing, and she stopped for a moment. They stopped as if unsure what she intended to do.

"So, I hate to pry, but I was curious. What do you all want to be when you grow up?" She asked, bending down and smiling at the kids, where no one else could see it. The phrasing was different, but the answers were the same. They all wanted to be like her. When asked why, they said because she was "super cool".

"You're silly. You shouldn't want to be in a gang. I only do it becasue I have to. You should want to be things like knights, and houswives." She said, worried that these kids would join a gang becasue she had glorified it.

"But knights work for Darrion, and he's mean." One of the boys said, one who had on a blue cape as well as a sash.

"That's not thhe thing to say in public, kid. Anyway, please think of something else to be, alright? Being a gang member isn't super cool at all, trust me." She stood and walked away, her slightly tattered cloak blowing slightly in the wind of her own movement.

The children stayed behind, thinking she was even more super cool that before.

* * *

She arrived at the huge colleseum in the city, where people were signing up for the tournament. She signed her name under the catagory for those under eighteen, which was much shorter than that of the elder class. The man looked almost suprised that she could write her name, as she wasn't a noblewoman, and she definatly wasn't in the chantry. She just smiled at him and kept walking into the crowded room where everyone was waiting for their name to be called. They weren't started yet, waiting for all of the contestants to sign up. It wasn't for another hour that they started announcing names, and even then it took awhile for Elva to be called. Fianly, however, she was called from the musty, overcrouded room. She went out with a boy of about thirteen, someone who really shouldn't be in a tournement like this. He could barely move in the chainmail that sparkled on his body, and the sword and sheild on his back had him visibly bending back under the weight. She sighed in releif, realizing that her first round at least would be an easy victory.

They took their postions facing each other, and she gave him a cocky grin. He gulped, though he didn't look too worried. He msut think that simply becasue she was indeed a she, that he could actuall win. She laughed at that thought, and his childish look on the world. She planned to beat him in front of everyone, so bad that he'd learn quick who really ruled the streets of Denerim, not necissarily her, but definatly not him and his fellow nobles. Not even the king that sat pompously next to an elven man with a big sword and a warden crest.

The bell rang, and the impatient lad rushed her, his sword drawn but inefective with his weak body. She decided to put on a show and jump onto his head, kicking off into a backflip and pushing his face into the dirt. He scrambled up, fear and deturmination in his eyes. His father was probably watching him, waiting for that expensive tutour to finaly pay off, and earn honor for their family. She had no care for honor in the eyes of others, only her personal pride and the opinions of her family, meaning Emmet and the children they cared for. He put his sword between them, trying to show an extrerior of courage, but she could read the terror in his eyes like a book. He slashed at her as she stalked closer. She ducked underneath it, and came back up with na uppercut. He stmbled back and she kicked him square in the chest, sending him to the sandy floor on his back. She knew that, if it came to his judgement, the king would never allow a noble to die, it would be too big a headache, so she put her foot on the boy's throat, choking the air from him. She looked to the king, who scowled.

"Yeild! The woman hold's victory." He boomed, and she stepped off of the boy. He ran out of the areana not even bothering to grab his sword and sheild. "To whom is your victory devoted?"

"To everyone not seated in a cushion, with a full belly, my King. To every common man, woman and child." She said, bowing, but not to her ruler. Instead, she had her back tured to him, bowing to the stands full of citezens. It wasn't as if she woudl have been allowed to live, anyway, should he be given the option, so what could possibly happen? She looked up at him and bowed slightly, but not nearly as deeply as she had done with the crowd. She walked into the first victors room, where the winners of the first round were allowed to stay. It was stocked with fairly fresh fruit, and water, both of which she took advantage of, eating enough to fill her stomach, a feeling she hadn't had in quite a while, but not weight her down. She relied on more speed then streangth after all, and to overweigh herself would mean death.

She waited for the rounds to be over, and was suprised when her name was called first this time, and she walked out with one of the men who looked more up to speed. He had two daggers as well, and the look of one who has elven blood, though his ears were rounded. His shock of short red hair did nothing to hide a scar over the corner of his right eye, and his leather armour was fitted like if he was well-off. He smiled at her in the same manner as she had done to the boy, like a lion and a gazelle. She scowled, not willing to be the prey, when she was such a beautifully deadly predator.

As soon as the bell tolled, she kicked the sand up, flinging it in his eyes. He grunted in mild pain, and stepped back, never closing both of his eyes at the same time as she followed up, chasing after him withh lightning movements. He kept up, using his superior reach to keep her at arm's length and away from anything vital. She tried sidestepping, and he turned faster than she could, leaving a blade in wait for her. She couldn't stop her momentum, and so she instead jumped over it. ending up beside the man. She aimed a stab at his side, but was smacked aside like a dog. She actually did a twirl in the air before landing stumbling on her feet, barely able to block the next blow. The attacks rained down, and she cursed, thinking quick. She shot out a foot, not expecting to actuallt trip him, but to dostract him from pounding her. It worked, and he took a step back, giving her time to get back on the attack. She weaved her daggers around with his for what seemed like an eternity, not used to having a match when it came to dual weilding. She jumped back, throwing the right hand blade at him, catching him off gaurd, She started running again as it scraped past his cheek. She ran to the wall, with him in tow, sheathing her second blade. She jumped off of the wall, drawing her bow and firing the arrow as her feet hit the ground, sending the pointed steel into the back of his head. He fell down to the ground, dead. She was breathing heavily, and sweat dripped down her temple, and she grabbed her arrow, as well as her dagger.

"Victory to the woman." The King said, though he seemed to regret that fact. "To what house is your victory deadicated to?" He asked, making sure to stress that she was to choose a house. But she did love pissing off the rich and arrogant, so she instead replied:

"Faria's house for orphans, where I grew up." She said, grinning and bowing once again to the crowd, before heading into the victory chambers for round two. It had fruit as well as small bits of meat, quite the delacacy, and she ate plenty of it, as well as chugging down water. She sat down on the cushioned bench to rest before the third round.

* * *

In the third round, she was paired with a fellow common man, and she really didn't wantto kill this guy.

"I don't want to kill you, so how about we agree that should one of us corner the other, we surrender. We both know that the king won't save either of us." She siad, and he looked at her, searching for dishonesty, but found none. He nodded, his long brown hair falling over his eyes. She grinned, and they understood that they wouldn't hesitate to kill for victory, just that they both wanted to avoid unnecissary bloodshed. They took their places, and he drew his sword and sheild, preparing for battle. She would have used the sand trick once more, but now where they were standing was so soaked in blood it wouldn't have worked. When the bell was struck, so did he. She jumped back, couterattacking to no avail. They circled each other, getting a feel of each other's reflexes with little jabs that were never meant for real damage. Elva decided to play it weak, and act slower than she normaly was, trying to fool him. She only moved just enough that it wasn't obvious she wasn't trying. Finaly he let loose a real slash, and she struck like the cobra she was. She grabbed his hand, and flung a foot into his face. Holding his wrist as she was, he didn't fly like he would have however, and she put her feet on the floor, bent her knees and hauled him over her shoulder, leaving him flat on his back, disarmed, and dazed. She heald her left hand blade to his throat, smiling.

"I yeild!" He called, not in fear, but awe. Something she usualy only received from children. She laughed a little and helped him up, grinning up at the king to see if he tried a third time to get her to pledge herself to a noble house. He did not. She bowed to the civilians and went into the ever more posh than the last waiting room, this one holding an entire roasted pig inside.

She was just starting to eat when her name was called yet again. It must be the final round, or fairly close to it. She longingly looked at the wonderfully cooked swine and went outside. She took her place in front of a man that could not have been less than eighteen years old. He was a monster, and a full blooded qunari. He had horns and everything, as well as the biggest sword she had seen in her entire life. He looked like a pissed off bull, and she gulped loudly. As soon as the bell sounded, he charged at her, and she felt as though she should have been given a red cape before taking this guy. She did him like the noble boy and jumped onto his head, or she tried. She could only reach his shoulders, so she used those instead. She lept up, trying to use the momentum of gravity to come down on him with more force, but succeeded only in getting caught in his giant hands, his blade dropped in favor of crushing her. She heard her bow snap and cursed, taking her daggers and shoving them into the monster's wrists, forcing him to drop ran to the other side of the areana, simply avoiding the swings of his massive sword. She tripped over her own feet in her haste and panic, and he picked her up by her hair, liftign her to eye level. She grabbed on of her broken arrows, stabbing the steel point into his neck again and again, even after he fell, blood spurting all over her face and torso. She could barely stand when she came out of her trance, and her breath was shaky as her legs.

"The winner of the junior division!" The king shouted, so as to be heard although there wasn't much enthusiasm behind it. She couldn't beleive her ears. She had won, and she'd be a grey warden. She'd be able to protect her family from the darkspawn, rather than simply other gangs. She smiled a little as she went into the victors room, which even had a basin of hot water for bathing. She washed off quickly, making sure to get all the blood off, or at least as much as was possible without taking off her clothes, as only a few minutes later, a dashing rouge type came walking in, along with a tall, bald nobleman. They stood beside her, washing themselves as well, though they didn't have much of anything on them aside from a little dirt. She finished and drank down the cool water that was placed in a jug, while the men enjoyed the fine wine that was next to it. She took a nap while she waited in whatever came next.


	2. Chapter 2

" Alright then, you people want to be wardens, huh?" A deep voice said, and Elva jerked awake, wiping her eyes and seeing that this was the same warden that was sitting beside the king at the tournement.

"That is why I entered the tourney, yes."She answered, standing up.

"I thought it was to royaly piss of the King, a task you acheived quite well. It's why you got the best fighters in the tournement, even though they should have been in the elder class." He answered.

"I knew that guy wasn't eighteen. Cheating bastards." She mumbled.

"It's against the law to speak of the king that way. Were we not now comrades I would report you to his majesties gaurd.

"I've been calling the king a something or other bastard since I could speak, frilly pants. It hasn't hurt anybody yet." She said back, crossing her arms and smirking.

"I am Sir Roderich, and you will adress me by my formal title." He said, clearly angry. She decided to mess with him some more.

"Elva Coalin, Street lord of Denerim. I think I killed a few of your men when they tried to kidnap one of my kids and force them into slavery. Wait, you do prefer to call them servants, don't you. Looks better on the record." They were glaring at each other now, though Elva looked alot calmer that the red faced noble.

"Why do you insist on insulting your betters little girl?"

"You wanna see who's better? I may not have my bow, but I don't think I'll need it." She took a step closer to him, hands on her blades.

"Whoa, there, girly. We need three recruits if you wanna be a warden, so you'll just have to wait until we get to Ostigar to kill him." The elven warrior said, placing his giant sword between them, easily stablizing it with one arm.

"Alright, we'll settle this as wardens, then." The noble spat, and the elf rolled his eyes.

"Anyway, my name is Errol, and I'm the warden in charge of making sure you guys reach base alive and as unharmed as possible. We'll be traveling to the base of Ostigar in the Bricillian forest, and before you ask, it is the Ostigar you're thinking of."

"So the wardens are using the tactics that got them all killed?"Roderick protested.

"Idiot, it was Logains treatchery and greed that got the wardens, as well as th king, slaughtered. This time we just have to put someone who isn't a power hungry asshole in charge of the, well, charge." Elva corrected, and they all looked at her in shock.

"How did a street lord learn history?"The rouge asked, speaking for the first time.

"I was taught by a servant woman who was the granddaughter of a member of the hero of Ferelden's clan. She tought me to read and write as well as history, things she had learned in the chantry as a servant there before being bought by a wealthy noble. Then the bastard killed her for feeding me. Now you see why i hate nobles." She said, glaring at Roderich the entire time.

"Not all of us are like that, you know. Some of us actually treat our servants quite well, actualy."

"But you don't." She said, matter-of-factly.

"And how do you know how I treat my servants?"

"Because she was one of yours, right after you took over the house. You had her whipped, and she died of blood loss. That's why I really wished it had been you the king had switched out, so I could have watched the life drain from your eyes, just like I did hers when I was only ten years old. I suppose it's only a matter of time, though."She said, and he got the expression ofa man who's wrongs had been pointed out, when he wasn't truly sorry for them. It was silent and akward for a while, until finaly the rouge spoke up.

"Well, my name Fernando, And it is a pleasure to meet you people. This should prove to be a very interesting trip, no?" He said, and they noticed his Antivan accent.

"Anyway, you all have until dawn to say your goodbyes and meet me in front of the chantry. Oh, and as of right now, you are in the order, and deserting is punishable by death." Errol said, and then walked out of the backdoor, the one that didn't lead to the arena. They all followed, and Elva ran to the little abandoned, two room shack that served as the home of she and her wards.

"It's big sis!" One of the older, and by that I mean about ten, boys yelled, grinning and standing up.

"Look who's back, our archdemon-slaying sister." Emmet said, givign her a hug.

"Havn't got the bastard yet, but now that I'm a warden, he's as good as dead."

"I don't knwo why peopel assume the demon's a he. It looks like a high dragon, and those are female." The eldest girl besides Elva erself said, her brain a sponge of knowlege past what any other 15 year old knew.

"There's our little scholar. Anyway, I leave at dawn, but I'll try and write as much as I can, alright. And Send any money back here, so that You guys might be able to get a real house or something luxurious like that."She ruffled the closest head of hair, which happened to be the quite little Emma. A blonde girl with curl-cue hair and big blue eyes. She was an artist, drawing things much better than Elva could do with real ustensils in the sand with her finger.

"Will you come back to visit? Maybe after the blight is over?" She asked, tears in her big eyes. She and Emmet had raised Emma since she was an infant. Taught her to walk and speak, as well as the usual reading and writing lessons they gave the children. She had even been the one to teach Emmet to read.

"If I can, kiddo. And remember, we arn't even sure this is a blight.I'm going just in case. Don''t'' worry about me, or anyting besides how we're going to get your lovely drawings on paper, so that you can make a career out of it." She smiled, and the other kids all crouded around her, all two dozen of them. Even the older boys, in cheap armour taken from fallen enemies, had tears in there eyes.

"I just hope this bloke over here is half the leader you are, Sis." The second eldest boy said, pointing to Emmet, who scowled.

"Hopefull our reputation will carry you far enough that his lack of tact won't matter. Just wear blue capes around. I think anyone who didn't recognize that sentement before will now. But what's the most important rule, guys?"

"Never attack the innocent, lest we be no better than those we dispise." They all chorused, and sh smiled.

"Alright. Well, how about a game before I go. I feel like kicking the boy's butts one more time before I head out." She grinned and the little kids went out to find a can to kcik around, since they couldn't afford a real ball.

The sun was setting as they went through their game, the girls winning as they always did, mostly because Elva was on their team, something the boys were happy to point out. The girls maintained that they would win anyway, becasue they held superior number, as well as speed. The boys countered with the fact that if they had no streangth it didn't matter. They argued like that, ending up in pretty much a one on one shouting match between Elva and Emmet, though it was all in good fun as usual.

As the sun fully set behind the horizon, they went inside, children yawning and all struggling for a spot to sleep on top of Elva the night before she left. Emmet agreed to stay awake to alert her when the sun began to rise, so that she wouldn't be late. She thanked him, and dropped off to sleep, surrounded by her family in a big heap.

* * *

"Hey, El. It's time to get up." Emmet whispered, shaking her awake. She nodded and slowly got all of the kids up and off, before saying goodby once more and heading out.

She made her way to the chantry, jumping through rooftops. She was nearly there when she was interupted by the half-elf who never ceased to piss her off, Nevarre. He had a group of about six of his men, and they all looked angry.

"You were going to leave without saying goodbye?"He said in that annoying, raspy voice of his.

"Well, my blades really did want to give you a farewell kiss." She said, sliding her daggers from their sheths with a hiss.

"Oh, look, it's a play on words. Anyway, I don't think you'll be making that appointment to become a warden, little girl. You've messed with me far too much to just get away with it."

"So you brought your whole gang to come and get me. I honestly didn't think you had this many left, what with my contasnt killing of them." She said, smirking.

"I want her head!" He shouted. Thety fought in the streets all the time, and the gaurd had no inclination to assist. They were both criminals, but they were usualy found cheering for Elva to win. Less work that way.

She lashed out with her daggers, the first two to reach her falling victim before they even noticed her movment. Blood was still gushing from them when she stabbed the second two in the gut. The third pair stopped, but she didn't, keeping up the momentum and slashing their necks open as well. They fell down like morbid dominoes, and He took a step back.

"What's wrong, Navarre? Scared now that it's one on one? Cowardly bastard." She said, throwing her right hand blade into his back as he tried to retreat.

She grabbed her blade, and cleaned it on his clothing, fancy velvet perfect for sword polishing, and kept moving, not wanting to be late.

* * *

"There you are. Now all we need is Roderich and we'll be ready to leave off." Fernando said, smiling at her.

"Figures he's be late. Frobably having his hair buffed or someting equaly as useless.

"But he doesn't have any hair."

"But his servants are too scared to tell him that. Instead everyone probably tells him about his long, flowing mane." She laughe, and he agreed, while Errol just stood there, looking into the middle distance.

"So that wouldn't happen to be your head I heard shouting for a moment ago, would it?" The Antivan asked.

"Yeah. Some other gang, though with him and most of his people dead, I think they won't be messing with the kids anytime soon." She said, and looked back the way she had come, already missing her kids.

"So you are the deadly beauty I here tell about, with the band of abandoned children and a qunari partner."

"I don't know about the beauty part, but I run the gang of good-doing misfits, if that's what you mean."

"It is, though I see the beauty part with my own eyes." He saidwinking one of the afformentioned brown orbs.

"Are you two gonna keep at this the entire time?" Errol said, looking bored as the sun came up.

"I'm not doing anything, it's this guy." She pointed to him, taking on a bored expression herself.

"How am I supposed to react to traveling long distances with a gergeous woman such as yourself." He said, as if making a defense in the case of a crime.

"You did hear the part about how I was in the junior division, right?"

"Oh, too true. How old are you, not something outrageous like eleven or something, I trust."

"Seventeen."

"Then we are only three years apart. And here I thought that I was being creepy."

"You can be creepy with people your own age, too."They went back and forth like this for nearly twenty minutes, which ended with Fernando getting a little to comfortable with his hands and Elva smacking him upside the head.

Finaly, Roderich showed up, though he had an obnoxious amount of luggage with him, as well as an elven man who was carrying nearly all of it. The trio who was on time jsut glared at him.

"What, I can't be expected to carry all of this myself."He said, scoffing.

"Now can I kill him? I'm sure we could find a damn good replacment somewhere. I even know a few people in town who would make great wardens." Elva said.

"I am considering it, but no. You, fat man, shall have no servants. You are a soldier now, and a real one, not a knight or a general. You shall only carry with you what you yourself can carry, lest we take up this woman's suggestions."

"Why are you all so convinced that I would lose the fight, first of all?" He asked, shocked to see that no one was rooting for all just stared, making him hmph, grab one of the smaller bags, and tell the servant to go home.

"Damn rich people." Elva muttered as they started walking, more than an hour off schedule.

* * *

HaHA! Chapter 2 is finished, and yes this is going to be alot like origins, though with characters and a plot of my own desighn. The massacre at Ostigar, and the civil war thing, all there, as well as the gathering allies thing. Sorry for the unoriginality, but you've stopped reading by now. Reveiw with love or critique, so that I can make you love it!"


	3. Chapter 3

"So then, this is Ostigar, huh?" She asked as the group arrived at the fort. There were cannons on the walls, and several men armed with a mix of bows and muskets.

"Yeah, this is it. This'll be your home until such a time as we defeat the dark-spawn threat, or you die. Hopefully the first one, we need all the wardens we can get." Errol said, as the gate which led inside the fort cranked open. The place was made mostly of stone and Iron, with a huge amount of tents inside it. It was fairly impressive, and all three newcomers were at least a little in awe. Roderich, having been a knight before, wasn't as unused to it as the others were, but even he had never seen a fort this size. It simply went to show that, should they be forced into remembering trauma, people will react very dramatically when faced with that same trauma.

"It's so huge. How are we supposed to find our way around?" She asked, and the others looked at her. They had never heard her ask a real question, one that meant that she wasn't all knowing or all-powerful.

"You'll get used to it, and there are a few signs, if you can read." Errol said, and she nodded, trotting off.

"Any idea where she's off to?" Fernando asked no one in particular.

"No, but then again, I could go for a good meal, and I assume that she could too."Errol answered, heading off himself. Roderich went his own way, and Fernando, the smart one, followed Errol, presuming that he was indeed heading toward the place where food was obtained. He couldn't help but notice that this wasn't quite the direction that Elva had set out, and he hoped the young woman found the food eventually.

"Why didn't you tell me that I was headed in the wrong direction?"Elva said, angrily slamming her bowl down on the table.

"How was I supposed to know. I just followed the guy who knew the place."Fernando defended, holding up his hands as he finished off his meal. It wouldn't have been a big deal, except the fact that the food was served on a first come first serve basis, and if you didn't get there fast enough, you got mystery meat stew instead of fresh Halla meat and a fresh hunk of bread.

"I didn't want to have to let the lady go first and miss out on my good meal. It stinks to get there late enough that you get the goo, and I was not gonna risk it." Errol answered, not remorseful in the slightest.

"It was still cruel. This stuff looks worse than what I ate back in Denerim." She said, shoving a spoonful in her mouth anyway. Fernando would have made a joke about how she didn't care what she put in her mouth, but she really didn't look to be in the mood. In fact, she really seemed to still be quite angry, and he really didn't want to make her madder. He'd hate to end up on her kill list along with Roderich.

"Hey, it's not that bad. It's actually no more than three days old. After that they feed it to the dogs." Errol said, hoping that she didn't react negatively to that. She grew up pretty poor, so he assumed that food was food at this point.

"They have dogs here?" She perked up, and he nodded, though neither thought she'd have much interest in dogs.

"Mabari hounds, matter of fact. Purebred, too." He said, happy that she was no longer on the brink of food-based genocide.

"That's great. Can you show them to me later?" She asked, and he nodded, finishing his dinner as well.

She scarfed down the slop, in spite of her protests, and the elven Warden showed her to the dog kennels.

"They're so awesome. I've never seen a real mabari before, only those annoying, yippy dogs that nobles seem to like so much. I wish I could have one." She sat and had a staring contest with one, it growled a little, but eventually just turned around, and ignored what she was doing, successfully making her the victor.

"Maybe that won't be so hard to do, little lady, so long as one of them imprints on you." The kennel master said, and she looked up at him with shining green eyes.

"Really? Running into battle, faithful dog at my side. Would you like that? Killing dark-spawn with me?" She turned to the defeated dog, which looked back at her and perked up it's ears.

"That one seems to like you already, doesn't it?" The kennel master said, and she smiled up at him. Errol looked at her noting that her weakness was for dogs.

As she was looking for a place to put up her tent, she noticed that there was an archery range. She wondered if they'd give her a bow, and some arrows. She went into the tent next to it marked archery tent, and found a huge assortment of supplies, as well as an old woman who seemed to be running the thing.

"Excuse me, Ma'am, but could you assist me?"' She asked, approaching the elder, who just glared at her.

"What do you want?"She rasped, her voice sounding like a classic witch.

"Well, I was wondering if I could obtain a bow and some arrows. Mine was broken in a fight, you see, and I am in need of a new one. Or a used on, really. I'm a warden here, and I need it to go about the business of killing dark-spawn." She explained, and the woman just glared at her.

"Do you have any money?" The woman asked.

"No, but I will at some point." She assured the woman, who just scowled.

"Then you get standard issue." She said, handing her a ratty looking short bow and ten arrows. She looked at them mournfully, missing her longbow more than ever.

"And how much would a longbow cost, one like this." She held up an unassuming but finely crafted longbow, made of hardwood, and a new string. It was the closest to her old bow she saw, and the woman smiled at this.

"'Fifteen sovereigns." The woman said, and this time Elva frowned.

"And to repair this one, perhaps?" She pulled out the shattered remains of her old bow from her bag, and showed them to the woman.

"That bow is too destroyed to be repaired. Get out if you aren't going to buy anything." The woman turned away, but not before tossing the remains of the bow off of her counter top, scattering wood everywhere.

She left, and was once again in a foul mood. Outside, one of the smaller soldiers was being bullied about not being able to shoot as well as the bully, who was a man larger, but in that strange way that marked an archer. She did so hate bullies, and so she strung the bow up, and took aim. Given it wasn't what she was used to, she still had a pretty fair idea where her arrow was headed. This was right by the bully and into the arrow he was pointing to, in the bulls eye, but from ten yards farther than the man boasted shooting it.

"Sorry to interrupt, just getting the feel of the new bow." She said, smiling at the pair. It had it's intended effect of pissing the bully off. He turned to her with an angry expression.

"You think you're something because you can shoot that shot, huh? I can top that." he said, grabbing his own bow.

"I didn't say you couldn't. Though ten yards farther than this is a shot I would like to see." She said, challenging the man in a way that didn't sound like a challenge.

"Move." He grunted, and she made a sweeping motion with her hands as she stepped to the side. He took aim, and she noticed a drop of sweat dripping down his temple. He let the arrow fly, and it hit the little red circle, though not quite as spot on as the other two shots had been.

"That is impressive. Let me have a go from yet farther, yeah?" She said, stepping back and taking aim yet again. She only took a moment, and the armor hit the very middle. It went on like this for a few more rounds until the man missed, and she didn't. He had no choice but to admit defeat, and she left, one ego successfully deflated.

As the sun went down, she set up her tent, and crawled inside right as it set completely. She lied on the ground, and went to sleep almost instantly, a meal in her belly and a blanket on top of her, more than she was used to, even after a month of travel. It wasn't to be an easy life, being a warden, but then again, she never expected it to be.

The next day, she was sure to be the first to the breakfast table, getting fresh baked bread with jam and a glass of milk. She was done eating by the time Errol showed up, and with Fernando shortly in tow. They were eating when Roderich showed up with what Elva called the comic relief. He was complaining about the meal, saying that a knight such as himself should be given a better breakfast. They laughed, and saw a man approaching that looked to be the father of the woman he was harassing.

Instead of being smart, and just giving up, he decided that he was going to yell at this guy too, until he found out that this was the baron in charge of the defensive position, and that woman was his daughter as well as head cook. Roderich got very grovel when he discovered that he had been outranked. He took his stale bread with nothing on it and water and sat down next to them.

"I saw you guys laughing at me. It wasn't very nice."

"By the way, Roderich, you aren't a knight anymore, you're a warden. You hold precedence only in matters concerning safety against dark-spawn. Nothing to do with food." Errol informed the ex-noble.

"So then we're on the same rank?" Elva said, grinning at the thought that he haled no legal precedence on her, not that she really gave a damn to start with.

"That is true, which means he can't refuse that duel on the base of fighting a lesser person. You're both common soldiers."

"That's higher than I was."Fernando said, shrugging.

"You never did talk about your past much, Fernando. It's obvious you're Antivan, but other than that you're a mystery." She asked, and he took a deep breath.

"Well, my father was a merchant, and he came to Fereldan because he heard that the woman folk loved Antivan jewels. He met a woman in the market place, and they fell in love. As you can imagine, I was born of this love. Unfortunately babies are expensive, and so he left in the middle of the night, leaving her with a house, but little more. She struggled to find work, eventually settling on a laundering business. We were fairly poor, and my mother was growing old. I tried to join the military, but they didn't trust me because of my accent. I assumed that a group as diverse as the wardens would not have a problem with this. So I joined the tournament." He shrugged, as if it was an average tale, but the young woman looked at his with sympathy and admiration.

"That's so sad, and you became a warden, ready to face death just to feed your mother." She said, and they all seemed to find this funny.

"Let's hear your story then, Elva." The Antivan prompted, and she shrugged.

"When I was nine, a plague swot through the streets, and it killed my mother and father. I didn't really have anywhere to go, and the orphanages were full, so I was stuck on the streets. I wandered until I found Roderich's garden, and a dailish woman found me there, scarfing down it's vegetables. Instead of shooing me away as she should have, she picked a few and gave them to me. Of course, like a stray cat I returned again and again, and she decided that I needed to learn to read and write, so that I could get a job when I was older. She tough me the basics, and I learned the rest on my own. One day when I came back, I had a gift for her. A blue sash I'd found in a noble's garbage. But instead I found her being whipped, and you know the rest of that story.

"After that, I didn't have anyone to take care of me, but I did find some weapons on the side of the road, discarded or belonging to the dead, it didn't really matter. I grabbed them up, and figured I should learn to use them. I ran into Emmett, a boy who was half qunari, and defiantly not welcome among them in Par Vollen. We sparred, and became friends, but realized that we needed a way to feed ourselves other than digging through trash. We saw a couple of skinny gangsters running through the streets, their pockets jingling, and figured they had stolen the money anyway, so it was okay to take it from them. We jumped them, not yet getting to the point of killing people, and took the money. Slowly we found a troupe of little kids that we decided needed someone to care for them, and we filled that role. A few of them were good fighters, but we rarely actually let any of them fight, and never alone. They were like our kids, and we wanted to protect them. When I heard about the blight, I knew I couldn't just wait for it to come to Denerim, so I joined the tournament to become a warden and make sure they were safe from the dark-spawn."

"And you said this guy's story was sad." Errol said.

"It's really not that bad, we lived fairly well compared to many of the others in the streets. We always said that it would pay off when one of the kids got rich, and we could live in their mansion."

"Well, maybe you could be the one to get rich. All you have to do is become the hero of Ferelden, and live. Then you get to live in the keep, and that place has plenty of room."Fernando joked, and she chuckled.

"Perhaps, though I wouldn't count on it. I'd rather not have everyone slaughtered like pigs here, and have to save the country with only one idiot prince who happens to be a great King." She said, and the chorused their agreement.

"Anyway, we actually have work to do. I told you that there is a ritual to become real wardens, but we have to get ingredients for it. Three vials of dark-spawn blood, from the forest." The elf said, becoming serious. They looked surprised, but nodded. They should know that an organization as shady as the wardens would have weird rituals.


	4. Chapter 4

Upon entering the forest, the group of Wardens found themselves immediately in battle with an annoyingly large group of blight wolves. Not something to be worried about from a battle perspective, but with them that close, the horde was most likely closer than originally anticipated. They decided that it could wait until they were done to alert the Baron, and continued into the wilds. Elva never re-sheathed her daggers, and she wished for the thousandth time that she had her old bow. It's power, and it's accuracy was much higher, and she had learned to shoot with that bow, cared for it like her children for years, only to have it taken in an instant.

They ran into a few more packs of wolves, untainted, and they were starting to wonder if there were dark-spawn there at all when Errol stopped cold.

"What is it?" Elva asked, but soon saw her answer with her own eyes. In a clearing less than a mile from Ostigar was the main horde, more of the nasty beasts than one could imagine, and her face cleared of color the same as her superior.

"The main horde is this close, and we didn't know it? This is bad. We need to head back, the ritual can wait."He said, and they turned around, ready to do just that when what must have been a perimeter guard found them, and fired an arrow. Elva shoved the elf aside, the rusty arrow embedding in her shoulder. She bit back her cry of pain as, here's the surprise, Roderich actually took the spawn down.

"Get it's blood, and be fast. We need to get back to the fort." Elva said, holding her shoulder with a pained expression, but otherwise outwardly unfazed by her injury.

"We need to get you to the medical tent right away, otherwise that wound will get infected." Errol said, moving her cloak aside and mumbling an apology before shoving the arrow the rest of the way through. He snapped the end off, and pulled it out, causing more blood to gush. She stumbled, feeling faint, and he scooped her up, placing his own tunic over her wound to attempt to stop the bleeding. It was mildly successful, but even with the sprinting pace he set back to camp, he didn't think she would make it. He's obviously never met a street-lord before, and defiantly not this one. She was too stubborn to die like this.

As he ran into the nearly empty medical tent, shouting that they were wardens in need of assistance, the doctors scrambled. He sent the other two to warn the Baron, and he watched nervously over the woman, biting his lower lip.

"Is she your woman or something?" The dailish sounding elven doctor asked.

"No, one of my recruits, actually."

"Then why are you fidgeting like that?"She asked, sewing up the wound on the conscience young woman.

"The arrow was fired at me. I'd feel awful if she died." He smiled at her, and she nodded, seeming to take a little extra care mending the wound.

"Hey, Errol, this really fucking hurts." She said, and they all realized that she was still awake. She gave the best smile she could manage with the agony of a gaping hole through her flesh, and the needle in her already battered skin.

"It's amazing she's alive, but awake?" The doctor said, and they both looked at her in shock as she sat up.

"If one arrow could take me down, I'd have been dead a long time ago."She said, and it should have sounded cocky, but her shaky voice took all of the confidence out of it. She was still pale, and her eyes could barely stay open.

"It's okay, E. You can show weakness. No one is going to think differently of you." He said, grinning at her.

"I should kick your ass for implying that word can even be applied to me." She said, struggling to her feet. "Now where's that scary ritual of yours."

"You'll need your strength. Just lay down, you stubborn girl."He said, and she shook her head.

"I'm going to be a warden before that horde gets here. If I don't stop them here, then all of this was for nothing. They cannot reach Denerim." She said, taking a step toward the door, stumbling but standing. That grin was plastered on her face, even as it grew clammy, to becoming soaked with her sweat.

"Fine, but if you die, I tried." He grinned at her, knowing that stubbornness was the key trait of another warden woman he knew about. The Hero of Ferelden to be more specific. It was passed down the dailish stories, after all, it was kind of their bragging rights. He wondered if those would become human rights after this blight was over. She really was impressive.

"Get a good nights rest, and we'll do it tomorrow morning. Even if you're rearing to go, I doubt the others will be so enthusiastic." He said, ruffling her hair as she walked past.

"I'm not a child!" She fumed, lacking her usual venom.

"To me you are. I'm thirty-five years old." He said, and she blinked. He looked barely twenty.

She shook her head and crawled back into her tent, trying to sleep.

Through the night, a man crept up to the tent where our injured hero slept so deeply that she didn't hear them. He put a hand over her mouth, as he drug her out of the fort, a broken piece of the wall that was easy to sneak in and out of. He had a fancy longbow at his back, and an angry grin on his face. She pounded his back, and he felt her wince everything she did so.

"A wounded woman doesn't stand a chance, so stop struggling."He said, tossing her roughly to the ground. She gasped and saw white from pain. She struggled to stay awake, but she couldn't bring herself to move. Even as the man's intentions were made clear, and fairly impure intentions they were. She just watched, unable to struggle as he started removing his own loose clothing. She was in a thin tunic, and her usual pants, and the ground was cold. She was shivering, which made her injury hurt worse.

"You bastard. You only attack in the night, and when I'm wounded. Let's see you try this when I'm well, coward." She spat, gritting her teeth.

"But you'll never get well. You're never leaving this forest." He said, bending down and grabbing her breast.

" Get the fuck off me!" she shouted, even though she knew they were far enough away from camp that she wouldn't be heard.

"And why would I waste a pretty young thing like yourself?" He said, and she cringed as he licked the side of her neck. She punched him with her good left arm, and received a punch with his right. She heard her teeth rattle, and again fought for conscienceness. He chuckled and was reaching for her clothing when she heard a twig snap.

"I really don't think this is voluntary, so get off the woman now." An unfamiliar voice said, seeming to come from the trees.

"And who the hell are you that you won't show yourself?" He asked, snarling.

"Canicus Acacias, Son of Denjiria Acacias, Magister of The Teventer Imperium." He said, making himself seen. He was a teenage human, with fiery hair to his shoulders, and pulled into a ponytail at the nape of his neck, though some toward the front escaped this,and green eyes. His skin was pale and unblemished in the moonlight. His clothing was various shades of green, from the lighter tunic and leggings he wore with a red sash to the long, high-collared jacket that covered it all, looking like the dark leaves, to the nearly black green of his lowered cowl. He had a staff in his hand, which looked like a regular branch until it formed a circle at the end, with a little metal ball suspended my string in the middle.

"A prissy little magister then?" He said, getting off of Elva and grinning darkly at her rescuer.

"No, son of a magister. I didn't want to be one so I left, bringing me to our current predicament." He said, his innocent eyes showing not a hint of sarcasm.

"Either way, you should be easy to handle."

The soldier pulled his pants back on, and grabbed his belt knife, only to be stuck where he stood. Vines were covering his ankles and wrists.

"A form of magic combining that of my people with the dailish, and ancient dwarven magic, before they couldn't become mages."

"Did you just make the forest your bitch?"Elva asked as more vines surrounded the attacker, and the very dirt itself seemed to begin swallowing him.

"Not like that. Each little bit of land has left over feelings, for lack of a better word, which can be used. This land has very angry feelings, like the ones who died here had tragic deaths." He said, being very non-nonchalant considering his magic had just created quick sand which was currently eating a person.

"That's sounds cool. What about Placed where no one has died before? Or the fade." She was finally able to move, and she sat up, clutching her shoulder.

"I don't know about the fade, you know how rare mages are nowadays, especially outside of the Imperium, but if nothing has died, or if the deaths held no regrets, then the land is pure and can be used for healing." He said, holding out a hand to help her up. She took it and stood on shaking legs.

"You can do healing magic?"She said. Unlike generations before, this one was unable to do magic like this, and so a healer was literally one in a million. Plenty claimed to have the capability, but few actually did. The chantry claimed that it was the maker further abandoning a non believing world. Other said that it was just a growing dilution of the mage blood, and still others claimed that there was too much darkness in people's hearts. Either way, this kid would get payed a lot of money if her were to tell the world of his gift.

"Kind of, but more importantly, what should I do with this guy?" He said, and the quicksand stopped with him craning his head to keep it above ground.

"I'll kill him if you don't want to. No sense in you getting blood on your hands for me." She said, grabbing the man's own knife and sliding it across his throat.

"You just killed him like that?"He seemed surprised, and she looked at him questioningly.

"I was a street-lord in Denerim, Canicus. I've been killing people like him since I was twelve years old." She said, looking at him strangely. Did he think she got to a war fort by being nice to people?

On his part, his nature magic did leave him able to sense people, and she had seemed so pure. She had the feel of a child, innocent and good, and yet she was so nonchalant about killing people. Perhaps she was just an oddity, or that she was more innocent than the dark-spawn tainted land, and it was merely relative. Either way, he was obviously wrong about her and that made him sad. He could really use a good friend in a strange country.

"If you want, I can get you into the fort. I''ll get you some fresh clothes, and no one will ever know that you're a mage. It can't be good for you to go around saving people if your on the run."

"Did I say I was on the run?"

"But you are. I know that walk, and I hear that Magisters don't like having anything taken from them, even children. Are you coming or not?" She asked, holding out her hand.

"I can't I didn't just leave for my own selfish reasons, I want to help people."He said, shaking his head.

"I can respect that. If you go to Denerim, and find a group of kids with a half-Qunari about my age as their leader, tell them E's alright. I know you don't owe me any favors, but it would help me a lot." She said, and a blush would have risen to her face if not for the fact that she didn't have enough blood.

"I will. I assume that you're E then?" She nodded and headed back to the fort, hoping to get back before sunrise.

"So you're all ready?" Errol asked, and they nodded. Two men and a woman, about to become wardens.

The cup was handed off to Roderich first, and he took a drink. They watched in horror as his body started twitching, and contorted into a shape that they previously thought impossible. His skin turned black and his screams filled the early morning air. As quickly as it had come, he was gone. Dead as a doornail, and Elva bit her lip.

"About how common is that?"She asked. She couldn't die. She still had things to do.

"If you are strong, you will live."He said, after reciting something over the knights body. He handed her the cup, and she stared into the black liquid. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves and drank.

Pain wracked her body, and she collapsed on the ground as well._ No, this isn't how it goes._ She thought_, I will not die!"_ She grit her teeth, and pushed away the pain, She opened her eyes, refusing to die. Little did she know, the taint had no intention of taking her, it was the passing out that followed all joinings. She dug her nails into the dirt, and in a few minutes, she stood, triumphant against what she thought was death. Instead it as even more impressive. She had overcome nature, and even the Maker himself.

"There's a twist." Errol mumbled, looking at her in awe. That was a common way for people to look at her lately.

"What?"she asked,still feeling the odd burning on her insides as the blood finished mixing with hers.

"I've never heard of someone not passing out after their joining."He said, and Fernando sighed.

"Fucking perfect. Now I'm defiantly going to die." He said, taking the cup. "The hero's companions always come after the massacre."He mumbled, drinking what was left. He, too fell to the ground, passing out. Unlike Roderich, his skin kept it's normal tan color and they could see that he was still breathing.

"We'll wait here until he wakes up, but the baron wants to see us when we're done." Errol said, and she nodded, trying not to show how exhausted she was.


	5. Chapter 5

"You wanted to see us, Baron?" Errol said, bowing very slightly, just enough to show respect.

"Yes. With the dark-spawn so close, they will most likely attack tomorrow night, or the one following, so I need you to be ready. You three will go to the tower, and light the beacon."

"I assumed three wardens are going to prevent being unprepared in the event the they have once again found their way into the tower." Elva asked, and he nodded.

"Precisely. My own son will be leading the charge, and I trust him completely, so that won't be a problem. The only thing that could go wrong would be you not getting to the tower in time. I've known Errol for a few years, and I find him to be trustworthy, and you two by association. Do not fail me, lest you fail all of Ferelden and very well Thedas." He said, being very dramatic about it. "No pressure."

She sighed, and found her elven superior smiling.

"I can't tell if I love this guy or hate him. And not to accuse your kid, I've never met him, but Logain was trusted just as completely. Are you sure we should put someone with something to gain in charge of the second army?" She pointed out, and he shook his head.

"To prevent that, even thought I know my boy would never do that, I've named his younger brother as temporary heir, and only my safe return alongside him will change that,"

"Yep, I like this guy. If we both live, I think we're gonna be friends." She said, smiling.

"Trust me, that's a good thing." Fernando said, "She may look small and soft, but she scares me more than the archdemon."

"Bringing up a wonderful point. Under no circumstances are you to confront the archdemon should it appear. We have other wardens for that, stick to your job." The baron ordered, but the two men saw the look of disregard on Elva's face. Should the dragon appear, she'd go after it no matter what some noble, even one she liked, had told her to do.

"Yes sir. Now, I assume there will be a bell, or something of the sort to show that the attack is imminent?" She lied, looking at him with question.

"Indeed, a fairly loud one. Maybe it'll scare them away." The baron joked.

"That could be worse than an attack. Hate to scared them in the wrong direction wouldn't we."She said, back, walking away. The men shrugged, meaning that they had no idea in man language. Even her friends weren't quite used to her mood swings. She always seemed to be the emotions she shouldn't be. If she was in pain, she joked and laughed it off, but when jokes were told, she seemed to get sad and leave.

She wandered to her tent, not even bothering with food. She was tired, and in pain. She lay on the floor, and stripped off her armor, as well as her under shirt, reveling an angry red rim around her wound that was hot to the touch. She cursed as she realized that it was infected. She debated going back to the doctor, but wondered just how much the woman could do. She had heard that doctors had a habit of chopping anything that looked bad off with a saw, and she needed her right arm at least for the next few days. After the archdemon was stopped, and her family was out of harm's way, she could lose her arm, but not yet. That seemed to be a phrase all to common in her vocabulary, not yet. She wondered when yet would come, and she'd die a cripple. She fell into a fevered sleep, tossing in the light blanket, and barely getting any actual rest at all.

She was like this that night, when the bell rang. Errol had already been worried about her, since she had missed dinner, and wardens should be starving, but now he was even more so. He got to her tent as she stumbled out, pale with dark circles under her eyes, and red on her cheeks. She looked like death, and he furrowed dark brows.

"You aren't coming to the battle." He told her.

"Like hell I'm not. Get out of my way." She said, shoving him out of the way weakly.

"You're too sick to do anything. Get t other infirmary now. That's an order."

"Fuck your order, bastard." She said, still moving forward. He could see that this was going nowhere, and sighed. He'd just have to make sure he stashed her somewhere safe when she went down, and watch to make sure she didn't get worse.

By the time they found Fernando and reached the tower, the battle was in full swing. Dark-spawn were covering the entrance, and Elva's stance seemed to stabilize at the sight of battle. Errol wondered if she laughed when people died, as all of her reactions seemed to be opposite what they should be. The three of them ran into battle, Elva not only keeping up, but setting a fast pace for her able-bodied companions. She slashed a path through the enemy, just large enough for her to get through, and left them to do the same. She kicked the door to the tower open, completely unnecessarily, but it did look heroic. He noticed that about her in the tournament. If she could look like the hero she would, and this gave her the perfect opportunity. They followed her through three floors, each seeming to be fuller of dark-spawn than the rest, contrary to what one would assume, being that fewer would venture up than would stay down.

She didn't even stop to loot everything, as was her general tendency. She instead rushed through like the archdemon himself were waiting for her at the top. They struggled to keep up with her, and as she reached the door to the top floor, they were shocked to find that she had stopped. An ogre had managed to get to the top of the ruined tower, and was now looking at them with angry eyes.

"That's a big motherfucker." She said, looking at it not in fear or awe, but with barely visible shock and ...Amusement?

She grinned and ran at it. "Light the beacon!" She shouted, jumping up to stab it in the chest. She got her blade in, but didn't seem to do anything but piss it off more. "I'm going to be honest. That usually works, this is an off day for me." She joked, and then nearly got smashed to death as it swung back at her. She flipped back, landing on her right hand, only to seemingly remember that it was in fact injured, and fall to the ground with an unassuming hiss of pain. Errol came to her rescue, swinging that large blade of his in a wide arc and nearly cutting the beast's leg off.

She thanked him before they started to separate, so that each of them was on one side of the ogre, this way they could attack him while his focus was on the other, causing him to focus on you, and repeating that until it died or got in a lucky shot. The final blow was made by the elf, who was happy to shove a sword in the giant head and look over at the lit beacon in happy relief.

"That was easy."Fernando said, going to look out the window. They shrugged, and smiled. Compared to what it could have been it was fairly simple. Kill the monsters, light things on fire. It was like a game for children but deadlier. Elva sat down on the floor, holding her shoulder. The power seemed to drain from her body, and he eyes got droopy.

"Are you alright?" Errol asked, bending down next to her. Of course she wasn't alright, she was just too stubborn to admit that fact. She had a fever, one that seemed to burn Errol's hand when he put it to her face.

"Dandy. And yourself" She said, grinning at him weakly.

"Dammit, let me see your shoulder." He said, untying the cloak and setting it aside. He could see the red ring around her wound, as well as the developing layer of pus coating it.

"That's bad. They'll have to chop it off." Fernando added, looking at her with worry.

"I know. But I couldn't fight armless, could I?" She nearly whispered, as she closed her eyes completely.

"You aren't going to die after all that, are you?" Errol scolded, shaking her shoulder. She responded only by slumping to the side, passed out and half-dead. He was about to lift her and take her out of the tower when a crash was heard. The two retaining conscienceness nearly wet their trousers when the archdemon itself came into the room, a giant dragon spitting black fire. Errol got up, and the two men futilely posed protectively over the girl, not knowing what to do but knowing that they had to do something.

And that's the last thing they remembered...

"What happened?" Elva woke up, scratching her head. She was moving, of that she was sure, She opened her eyes and looked around, finding that she was in a carriage, and Errol and Fernando were on the seat opposite. Next to her was the boy from the woods, Canicus, and she was certain this was all a freaky fever dream.

"You've been out for more than a week. The tower fell, but this guy found us, and helped us out. You'd be dead if it wasn't for his skill with herbs."The elf said, smiling.

"So you can do magic and make health potions? Impressive that is." She said, straightening up, but wincing at the increased pain in her shoulder.

"Of course, I'm a mage, not a miracle worker." He told her, looking almost apologetic.

"So what happened, did we win?" She asked, ignoring the pain.

"No, it was another slaughter. We didn't expect it to be that many, and we had nothing but boys out there. The higher ups kept the knights for themselves, so we got the leftovers."

"You mean..."

"We have another blight on our hands, and we don't even have the treaties that the last wardens had."Fernando finished, and she clenched her fists.

"And we're running away to where?" She demanded, her left eye twitching in anger.

"Nowhere, but we're hoping that if we get to Orzamar in time, we can at least get their help. Wardens are the only humans allowed in nowadays, and we need to reach them before the news of the massacre, lest they not believe us." The elf informed her, and she calmed a little.

"It will have a price." The mage added, but they all scoffed. They would pay it, because that's what wardens did.

"I don't care. And I don't think they do either. Thank you for saving us, but you don't have to come with us any longer."She told him, taking her improper but habitual place as leader.

"Do you not want my help, then?"

"No, you're defiantly a useful man to have around, but you have no duty to protect this land from dark-spawn spawn, you're neither warden, nor Ferelden, so if you didn't want to roam the deep-roads looking for some god awful relic that is the only thing the dwarves will trade for their help, then you have no need to do so. Obviously if we get you in by saying you're a warden, though, you will be expected to do just that."

"It's touching that you would think of my safety, but I came to Ferelden to help people, and that's what I'm going to do."He said resolutely, and she shrugged, and then winced.

"Suit yourself. Wake me when we get there, or where food is. I'm starving." She said, leaning on the carriage wall and falling asleep again.

"Does she do that a lot?" The mage asked.

"It is kind of her thing, going into battle and acting cocky when she's half-dead, and then passing out when she isn't needed at the moment. Like she can store up her weakness in a bottle until it can be uncapped." Fernando said, shaking his head but laughing a little.

"The problem will come when that bottle gets full, and she's not ready to uncap it yet. She's too used to not caring for her own safety. Even when she strives to live, it's not for her." The elf said sadly.

"She's just like a kid on the inside, always wanting to help, and never thinking that she herself could ever need it." The Antivan added.

The mage sat there, looking at her like she was a beautiful painting, and the two men were already seeing the romance happening in front of them.


	6. Chapter 6

"Welcome, to the gates of Orzamar." Errol said, when they walked up to a small, snowy clearing in the middle of a valley.

"Maybe dwarven goods would be less expensive if it was easier to get in and out of the damn city." Elva complained, her shoulder past the point of being dangerous or causing handicap, but still throbbing.

"That's the point. If it was easy to get to, they'd have to deal with idiots who just wanted to see a dwarven city. This way, they only deal with determined idiots. And all the trade happens here, once you leave Orzamar, you can't go back." The elf said, and she just harrumphed

"Well, shall we go in then?" The happy-go-lucky mage said, smiling as usual. He seemed to be pretty carefree for someone on the run. In fact, they were beginning to question his honesty. All except Elva, who seemed to relate to him, even though she had lost her parents early.

"Sounds good to me, my friend." Their Antivan companion agreed. They walked to where the giant gate stood, as well as two large looking guards

"What do you want, surfaces?" The red haired on on the left asked.

"We are wardens from Denerim, and we need to speak with your king." Elva said, immediately taking leadership, though she was both the junior to Errol and a woman.

"I find that hard to believe. Wardens are a rare thing, and you are all too young to be looking for your final writes." The black haired one across from him said.

" Well, I suppose you guys get four young people saying they're wardens here everyday, then?" She pointed out sarcastically

"No, but we've actually gotten a few in the past."

"Wow. Some people. Anyway, how do you want us to prove it. I don't suppose you have an archdemon in supply in that city of yours. Or the other ones that you're too scared to venture into." She raised an eyebrow, and they both got pissed in unison.

"We don't fear anything! We simply know when something isn't worth the effort!" Black beard shouted, and she just grinned.

"I don't believe you. I bet that we wardens could make it to you're most dangerous tieg and back without any problems. Including the taint." She challenged, and they seemed to think about it.

"Go ask the King. We'll see if you're let in." Red beard said, and the darker counterpart went into the gate, but only left it open long enough to get through himself.

They walked over to a part of the clearing that no one could hear them in.

"Are you crazy? We're only four people, wardens or not, we can't take on the entire deep-roads!" Errol hissed, and he would have punched her if she weren't a woman.

"It'll get us in, and besides, the champion of Kirkwall did it, and she only had one warden with her. The hero of Ferelden went down there and fought an army of golems. We'll be fine." She said, waving her hand in a dismissive motion.

" You're still daft as an old woman! We aren't those people."

"The only things that separates those that are great and those that aren't is who is willing to take a leap." She said, looking at the floor.

"Who said that?" Fernando asked, and she looked at him strangely

"I did. Not everything that makes sense is a quote." She retorted, and he shrugged.

"It just sounded a little rehearsed is all."

"It's what I told the kids, so that they wouldn't think that just because they were born poor meant they had to stay that way. They always thought that I was just some kind of hero, but in reality, the only thing special about me is my circumstance." She shrugged as well.

"No, most people in your position would have turned to simply being ruthless, and threw their morals into the wind. They would have already had those children doing smuggling runs, and anything else they could think of."

"I'm just used to taking care of people is all. It doesn't matter what person you are, it only matters what happens to you. That's what really shapes someone."

"I don't think so." The mage said. "I've lived in the same way as many generations of magisterial before me, and I still changed."

"Because something happened to you that didn't to them. You had to learn right and wrong from somewhere." She said, and they went back and forth. Each one was right in a way, but the elder males were just enjoying listening to the debate, and were happy to simply listen.

It took nearly six hours, but the group was admitted into the city, and were amazed as they walked through the hall of Paragon statues. It was wonderful, though it was obvious they had to make minor changes to fit new paragons in. Elva led the way in, the others just naturally filing in behind her. She gave of the aura of a leader, and they were subconsciously obligated to follow.

They were led through the crescent shaped city, and into the Diamond Quarter, where they met with the king. He was a tall man, for a dwarf, and he oozed reality like he sweated the stuff.

"Your majesty." Errol said, bowing and getting on his knee. The other two men followed suit, but Elva stood, eyes facing the front, and not even so much as nodding her head.

"I don't do well with people who haven't earned my respect. I won't bow until I think you deserve my subservience" She said, and Errol looked like he was having a stroke or something. He should have know better than to take her in front of nobles. He was ready to get up and apologize to the king for his undoubtedly slow in the head friend when a smile broke out on the blonde dwarf's face.

"I like this one. She stands strong as the stone, even when facing a king!" he announced, and the men were all dumbfounded. "Say, young woman, would you represent me in tomorrow's proving? I haven't ever had a person like you, and not just because you're a surfacer." He offered.

"Should I win, would you assist my people in the dark-spawn invasion, Sir?" She asked, this time bowing a little.

"No, I'm afraid that isn't enough, but I will give you the real task to get our help." He said, and she shrugged.

"I suppose that will have to do. We do need the assistance. The last blight was ended only with the help of all the races, and I heard that the dwarven and their golems were a big part of that." She tried to give him credit without buttering him up. He liked her strength after all, right?

The king nodded, and she led the group from the throne room with more outward confidence than she actually had on the inside. Beating a bunch of half-starved kids and nobles was one thing, but trained dwarven warriors would be different. She took a deep breath of the stale air, and tried to be the leader she was expected to be. It was a habit she had gotten into quite early, and so it wasn't too hard, even when she was dealing with those older than her, rather than the children followers she had become accustomed to.

"So, we're entering the proving to win and get the chance to go on a dangerous mission, which _just maybe_ will get us their assistance?" Fernando asked.

"Yep." She responded, looking back and meeting their eyes.

"Okay. Just making sure. I like to know how many suicide missions I'm currently scheduled for at any given moment."

"Oh, hush. You'll only have to fight in group rounds. I'll be the actual contestant." She said, and the men looked at her strangely.

"And why is that?"Errol inquired.

"Why not? Unless you guys have a problem, I'm kind of used to being the leader, and that means doing the dangerous stuff. Though you aren't like the kids, so I suppose I don't really have much authority over you." She put a finger to her lip, thinking.

"We could all enter, and if we run into you, we could just yield." Canicus suggested.

"I suppose, but I don't think they take kindly to quitters. Why can't you guys just believe in me?" she put a hand on her hip, giving them a cocky smile. They sighed in near unison, and agreed to allow her to be the one to compete, only because she wanted to though. They were quite adamant that they were completely unafraid of what may await her in the ring. She nodded and headed to the arena.

Sorry for the long wait and short chapter. I was writing my Hetalia fic, as well as doing school stuff. The next chapter will be the tournament, and it's result. I hope you read, enjoy, and will review.


End file.
